PM to join A Long Walk Home (-open-)

[Ishara Dossari]

When: 47th of Fall, year 512AV, Just After Midnight
Where: Just Outside The Glass Gull

"Thank you, Rekalar...but I think I can find my own way home tonight," Ishara said, folding her apron over her arm as she glanced up at the towering Akalak warrior. The blue-skinned man gave her a long look, as though to gauge her sincerity, and then simply nodded and ducked back inside The Glass Gull. Ishara sighed quietly to herself. She was growing accustomed to the patient attention of the Akalak men, and though most remained respectful, Ishara could not help but see through their actions to the likelihood that their niceties only stemmed from their desire to breed... Still, some are just...nice. she told herself firmly, not willing to be completely swayed by the overall oppinion that all the warriors were after was procreation. They were a dying race. They were only committing themselves to staving off the possibility of extinction. Just because the life of a Nakivak did not appeal to her didn't mean she had to resent their attention.

No, they are only doing what they can, Ishara told herself wearily, unbinding her hair and combing her fingers through it. Her feet were sore from rushing about on them all night, her uniform had a wine stain on it that she was going to have to find some way to work out, and she was still mentally cringing over the handful of blunders she had committed this evening amidst the chaos of the dinner rush hour. Still, there had been a few words of encouragement delivered along with her dinner, and her pocket held some coin--a welcome change from the days she often went to bed hungry and broke.

The breeze kicked up then, bringing with it the taste of salty air seasoned with woodsmoke. Voices echoed down the street, raised in ribald laughter. Several figures were staggering home after a night filled with drink, and the sight brought a taut smile to Ishara's features. People certainly were odd under the influence of too much drink. She was growing accustomed to how it stripped people of their inhibitions and wit, either mellowing them out or fueling whatever fractious emotion simmered right beneath the surface. It was something she'd been instructed to watch and be wary for. The Glass Gull was no place for drunken brawls or embarassing acts of debauchery. They took their atmosphere of quiet sophistication quite seriously, and any troublemakers were promptly shown the door by Rekelar or one of his brothers.

Tired as she was, Ishara watched the moonlight dance over the waters of the Bluevein and fancied a walk. The air curling off the water was fresh and crisp, just the thing she needed to aide in clearing her mind of the buzz of talk that clung to her after her evening shift. She was steadily getting the hang of things, but from the moment she walked through the doors of The Glass Gull she hardly had an opportunity for a spare thought as orders came in, went out, and guests poured through the doors and begand to ask for their wine. And here, in the quiet aftermath, Ishara's head and ears were still buzzing from it all.

A walk would do her good.

Tossing her apron over one shoulder, she folded her arms and set off down the road that ran alongside the river. The sounds of water gurgling below was a balm to her nerves, and she began to feel the day's tension ebb from her shoulders. Her thoughts turned to the next hurdle of her life here in Riverfall--finding a place to live. Winter was coming, and soon the dunes of the beaches would become way more inhospitable. Like it or not, her little campsite on the sands was going to have to move. Perhaps tomorrow I can start looking, I have the afternoon--

A harsh shout of laughter interrupted her train of thought. A pair of human males were swaying down the road towards her, and one was bent over and braying loudly about something the other had no doubt said. Ishara frowned softly and ducked closer to the fron of the shops, hoping the shadows there would be enough so that she could escape notice and slip on by. She was not so lucky.

"Oh-ho! What 'ave we 'ere?" The first man, taller of the two with a shock of red hair, leered at her with a crooked smile. His teeth were uneven, and his nose long-healed from an old break. His clothing suggested that he was a sea man, though the smell rolling off of him confirmed that he'd been spending the majority of this evening at one of the local pubs. Ishara could not dispell the uneasiness as the man swayed to a halt and elbowed his companion in the ribs.

"Pretty little thing like you, can't be walkin' all by yourself, now...might get hurt! Might get lost!" The other man sniggered at his companion's words, his beady eyes narrowing as he struggled to pick Ishara out of the shadows. Still hoping to slip by, Ishara increased her pace and dropped her eyes to the ground. Her fists clenched against her sides as the taller man side-stepped into her path, and she was forced to skid to a halt.

"I'm just fine. I can get home by myself," she snapped, irritation turning her pale eyes frosty as she glowered back at the two men. The shorter companion stepped closer, reached out, and tugged on her apron strings. "Just gettin' off work, eh? Bet'cha could use a good drink...C'mon, lighten up, the night s'young yet!" Ishara flinched from the gesture, and took a few steps back, measuring the distance over one shoulder to The Glass Gull. The walls of the building were just out of sight.

"Whats th'matter? Our company ain't good enough?" A hint of anger flavored those rough words, and the red-haired man's eyes narrowed down at Ishara.